


qué es ver un alma herida

by cherryfeather



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Episode Tag, M/M, Missing Scene, Reunions, Warning I am a Huge Sap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-21
Updated: 2016-04-21
Packaged: 2018-06-03 14:10:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6613675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherryfeather/pseuds/cherryfeather
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A small missing Portamis scene from 3x01. There was a hug I needed to write.</p>
            </blockquote>





	qué es ver un alma herida

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mellyflori](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mellyflori/gifts).



> just be glad I stopped myself from titling this "The Ecstasy of Saint Aramis." for melly, because of the livetexting.

He hasn't laughed like this in so long. Full-body laughter, all of him shaking, all of him lit up and sparking at the ends and _alive._ Aramis feels _alive_ again.

It's not just the chase, the wind, the gunpowder tang or the brilliance of fire or the sing of a sword or a shot (the sweet weight of a pistol in his hands completing him again)--though he has missed those, but more than that--

Porthos. _Porthos._

Porthos trusting him again. The delicious aching sweetness of Porthos putting his faith, his expectations, his pure and simple _trust_ in Aramis again.

It means more when it is someone who knows all of Aramis' faults and foibles and personal disasters, someone who knows exactly how unworthy Aramis is and yet has faith in him _anyway._

It means the world to have that _back._

Aramis rolls his head to the side to look at Porthos (broad and beaming and beautiful _Porthos)_ , and Porthos is still laughing his deep belly laugh. It still bubbles up through Aramis like champagne. Like a waterfall cascading over him. Like sunlight.

Four years and his whole body still resonates to Porthos like a string plucked in tune.

Porthos tilts his head to look at him, and then they are looking at each other, and then they are _smiling_ at each other, and Aramis is no longer grounded to this earth but somewhere floating above the clouds, weightless with his _joy_ \--

Porthos' smile softens, and his eyes (perfect rich warm beautiful _beautiful)_ trace over Aramis' face, and the weight of them on his skin is everything Aramis needs to tether himself to the earth again--

"Aramis," Porthos says, with his smile curving up and his eyes deepening, and Aramis forgets about trying to come back to earth.

Aramis laughs, once, a half-breathless huff of shaky air, as the world reforms underneath him, and Porthos' smile turns small and--

And tender.

"Think I'll take that hug now," Porthos says, as simple as that, with his tender smile and those soft eyes shining.

Aramis' body surges forward, his heart leaping and lurching the rest of him along with it, and Porthos rolls, catches him, hauls him close the way he always, always has. _This_ is the embrace Aramis has been asking for, trying for, _aching_ for, and Porthos crushes Aramis to his armored chest and lets Aramis hold on for dear life.

Aramis buries his face in Porthos' neck and breathes in his sweat and steel and gunpowder. His Porthos. _His Porthos._

Porthos cradles him close, so fierce and so gentle and Aramis has forgotten how he can feel so small when Porthos holds him, so small but so _strong_ \--

And then Porthos cups the back of his head, slides his fingers through Aramis' long hair, and just because Aramis _knows_ it's merely an affectionate caress doesn't mean he can stop himself from flooding hot and shivering all at once.

Porthos laughs again, full-throated and with his whole body pressed against Aramis, and Aramis is floating again. 

"Still?" Porthos asks, bright and teasing and happy, and Aramis looks up into his face.

"Still yours," he says. It's quiet, and more serious than he means to be right now, but the bone-deep contentment he feels is nothing to joke about.

Porthos' eyebrows lift, and his hand slides to Aramis' cheek, and his eyes and his smile soften.

"Is that so," Porthos breathes, and kisses him.

And Aramis remembers how it feels to fall and fall without ever hitting the ground.

**Author's Note:**

> the title is from Saint Teresa of Avila's autobiography, from the chapter where she talks about the pain and the ecstasy of her visions of God-- "Oh, what a sight a wounded soul is!" 
> 
> If you're like, "huh, why is this an Aramis thing?" I direct you to Bernini's [The Ecstasy of Saint Teresa.](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ecstasy_of_Saint_Teresa) That is a divine O-face, my friends.
> 
> [blasphe-meeeee, blasphe-youuuuu, blasphe-everybody-in-the-rooooom](http://tehriz.tumblr.com)


End file.
